


Rip

by gummycola



Series: Poppy Seeds (Fallout AU) [1]
Category: Fallout 3, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fallout (Video Games) Setting, Gen, Someone gets stitches, descriptions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23844490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gummycola/pseuds/gummycola
Summary: Alfred and Matthew get attacked by raiders.
Relationships: America & Canada (Hetalia)
Series: Poppy Seeds (Fallout AU) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718197
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Rip

“You know, this would go a lot easier for you if you’d _stop twitching!”_ Matthew ended his sentence with a particularly hard shove of the needle into Alfred’s abdomen, causing the other man to twitch harder than ever. He bit down on the stale snack cake between his teeth and gagged as the ancient, too-sweet filling exploded into his mouth.

“Serves you right.” His brother sniffed, though he poked a bit more tenderly as he finished the sutures. A zigzag of dark thread held Alfred’s stomach together from just below his navel to the top of his pants.

They were hunkered down in an old grain silo, lit only by a busted lantern and the light of the half-moon spilling in between the gaps in the corrugated steel.

It was Matthew’s turn now, but judging by his pallor, he wasn’t up for much. Alfred rolled his hand lazily at his brother until he rolled his eyes back, undressed, and laid down in the dirt. There was a mattress here, but it smelled like raiders. Everything smelled like the raiders. It was making Alfred nauseated.

He got to work silently, laying out their limited supplies and trying to gauge his brother’s condition in the low light. His fingers fumbled at his nose in search of glasses that weren’t there.

While he worked, Matthew kept his eyes closed, and just to spite Alfred he barely moved a muscle. Alfred chalked it up to his superior medical skills. He contemplated jabbing Matthew back for the kicks, but remembered he was on very thin ice for earlier today. Huh. About that.

“Why aren’t you cussin’ me out?” Alfred’s voice broke through the silence between them.

Matthew grumbled something under his breath before opening his eyes wide. His hand shot up to cover his brother’s mouth.

Silence. That’s right, but not right. Not right at all for there to be silence. No skitter of radscorpion legs across the packed sandy earth. No vigilant robot crawling through the air blasting the vapid promises of John Henry Eden. No deathclaw growl, but that was a good thing. Alfred was pretty sure the silence was better than a deathclaw. He didn’t want to meet anything _worse_.

Matthew shoved a metal helmet roughly over Alfred’s head and scrambled toward his assault rifle, jiggling the cartridge. He slid two pistols in Alfred’s direction and, nodding towards him, extinguished the light.

There was more silence, and then, all at once, a cacophony of screeches. Raiders were hooping and hollering, screaming out over the sparking and tearing of old, weakened steel being eaten away by the teeth of a chainsaw.

Alfred yanked Matthew against him by the collar and kicked once, twice, a solid three times at the side of the silo before a loose portion gave way. He shoved his brother through, stuffed a pistol into his belt, grabbed his new rifle and followed.

They rolled and ran, as quietly as they could while partially armored and armed to the knickers. They made it to the outhouse, hunkering down beside it when the chainsaw stopped and somebody yelled. His stitches were burning hot inside his shirt.

“Fuck, fuck!” Matthew was shouting, jiggling the lousy cartridge again, pushing at glasses he didn’t have. Alfred risked a look toward their attackers, and sure enough, fuck. Fuck, fuck. There were a lot of them. They hadn’t seen them yet, but there weren’t a lot of places to hide.

“Okay, alright. Stop bellyachin’ and lemme try to… we got anything to bargain with?”

Matthew stared at him slack-jawed for a moment before pounding at his chest and legs, pulling at empty pockets and whimpering.

“Hey, hey!” Alfred shouted. He was answered immediately by a bullet. Amateurs, wasting ammo like that. Junkies, for sure. Maybe he could reason with them?

“Listen, I get it, this is your territory here! We’re trespassing, I--”

A boot came into sight, and with it the pock-marked face of a woman, no teeth, no eyebrows. She opened her mouth and spat at him, grinned, raised a bat. Her face was the color of the ancient snack cake filling rolling around in Alfred’s freshly sutured belly. Behind him, another raider came around, threatening Matthew with a shotgun. Alfred’s heart stopped, and then one, and then two—

Lady’s head exploded, blood, an eyeball, he could see the reflection of the moon in her irises. Slow-motion but so fast, he ducked and rolled and sprang up again, shotgun guy weighed a little bit less now. How many shots left?

Matthew was alive, good. He was ducking out, spraying a few bullets here and there, jumping back.

“Number!” Alfred screamed.

“There’s, uh, there’s a dozen, I think.” Matthew shouted back. The chainsaw was roaring again, the raiders were yelling, frenzied. At least one of them had a gun. Alfred plastered himself to the outhouse again.

“Stop shooting. How many bullets do you have?”

Matthew gave him a pained look. His sallow face was shining in the moonlight. Alfred motioned for his rifle, and they swapped guns.

“Cover your ears and nuts.” Alfred warned, then poked his head out, paused, aimed far right, too far right, the raiders weren’t over there, what was he doing?

There was the woosh of a fire, a fire? Where? And somebody cursed loudly, boots scrambled, arms reached, pushed others backwards, the girl with the chainsaw fell, fell _on_ the blade, roared out—

Something exploded. A column of black, dense smoke engulfed them, drove into Matthew’s eyes and lungs. He could hardly see before, but now he could see nothing, hear almost nothing but the frantic beating of his own heart.

They stayed in the darkness Alfred had made by blowing up the ancient car until the silence returned and the smoke began to clear. By the time they found themselves and each other, dawn was breaking, and their stitches were, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Shh do you hear that? Hang on. Listen.  
> You hear that deafening silence?  
> That's the sound of all the people who didn't ask for this to get (re)posted.  
> Once upon a time I had a whole US/UK fallout story cooking up.   
> This is hardly worth a oneshot but you know what, quarantine-style baybee.   
> Hope y'all are safe. Fallout doesn't feel as uh, fun, right now, eh?


End file.
